


Long Before I Knew

by PinkCanary



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dream Sharing, Multi, Polyamory, Tumblr: JediPrompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 08:18:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6416008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkCanary/pseuds/PinkCanary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It probably happens even earlier, but the first dream that Rey can pinpoint -- can look at and say <i>yes, this is definitely it</i> -- is one of flying.</p><p>She dreams of taking off.  Of feeling the sudden weight in her stomach as the ground drops off beneath her, and a sense of elation and pure <i>joy</i>.</p><p>She loves it, loves the feeling of it, and she thinks about the dream whenever she sees a ship taking off in the distance.  </p><p>But it also takes Rey years to realize that the dream isn’t her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Before I Knew

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for JediPrompts' jedistormpilot week, and for the Day Four prompt "reinvent". Which I'm choosing to interpret as a reinvention of canon events, within a soulmate AU. ;)

It probably happens even earlier, but the first dream that Rey can pinpoint -- can look at and say _yes, this is definitely it_ \-- is one of flying.

She dreams of taking off. Of feeling the sudden weight in her stomach as the ground drops off beneath her, and a sense of elation and pure _joy_.

She loves it, loves the feeling of it, and she thinks about the dream whenever she sees a ship taking off in the distance. 

But it also takes Rey years to realize that the dream isn’t her own.

*

Poe dreams of flying. Of takeoff and landing, and the calculations that BB-8 does for their jump to hyperspace, but that he has also learned to do in an emergency on his own, if needed. 

He dreams of his mother, and of the loth-cat that he had when he was a child, and sometimes just _nonsense_. 

But also, he dreams that he’s late for inspection, and he can’t find his boots. Feels the panic and the fear, even when he wakes up and realizes that he doesn’t even know what is being inspected.

*

Finn startles awake, reaching for the knife under his pillow, despite the fact that he has never been issued a melee weapon and wouldn’t be allowed to keep it under his pillow even if he was. Can feel the phantom sensation of a wall against his back, and his heart pounding in his chest. 

The overwhelming fear that he’s going to die here, and that _they_ will never find him. Will come back and find him gone.

*

Neither Finn nor Poe have any idea who _they_ are, but they both feel the terror just the same.

*

Poe knows all about it, of course. He remembers his parents talking about it -- joking about shared dreams in the mornings -- but his father still eyes him with curiosity. He’s nineteen years old by the time he figures it out. Much older than most are.

“It’s hard to tell at first,” his father tells him. “You’re not sure if it’s something that your own mind came up with, or if it’s someone else’s. But after awhile, you can just tell.”

Poe thinks about black and white and red. Of heat and sun and hunger. He does not tell his father that he can always tell which dreams are his own.

*

Finn does not have anyone to ask about the dreams; and he doesn’t dare bring attention to anything that could be considered _different_. 

(But that doesn’t mean that the dreams don’t happen.)

*

This dream unquestionably belongs to Poe. The sky is different -- not quite right, in the way that dreams have a tendency to be -- but the tree is the same. The night time noises are familiar, as well, and he stretches out. Lets himself sink down into the cool leaf-litter of the jungle that surrounds his childhood home. 

But also, he knows -- _knows deep in his bones, in the same way that he knows that he’s on Yavin IV, even though the night sky looks more like what you would see in the Outer Rim_ \-- that he isn’t alone in the clearing under the Force-sensitive tree. 

He feels the twin waves of awe and wonder that wash over him from both sides as they stare up at the tall forest canopy above them.

*

“Do you think it’s possible to have two soulmates?” Poe asks Karé and Iolo one night. He’s on his third glass of cheap whiskey and the question slips out before he can filter it. 

Kare just smirks at him. “Have you been dreaming of threesomes, Commander?”

*

The metal structure is familiar. Stark and dim, with jagged places where circuitry and mechanics were clearly pulled from the metal bones. 

The girl, however, is new. 

She’s young -- definitely no older than seventeen, hair pulled back away from her face and dressed in the light linen favored on warmer planets -- and she’s curled up in a pile of blankets, back pressed against the wall farthest from the door. Sweat is beading on her forehead, but she’s shivering, despite the sweltering temperature inside her crude shelter. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, lifting her head to stare right at Poe. 

“I…” He pauses, tries to figure it all out, before settling on the truth. “I have no idea.”

The answer should not be enough for her, but somehow it is, and she lays her head back down into her nest of blankets. Snuggles closer into the doll beside her.

*

Poe notices the doll’s orange pilot’s uniform now, but he won’t realize the _implications_ for some time. 

One day, the whole thing will be startlingly clear.

(Today is not that day.)

*

“Dreams are always strange,” the girl offers. And that really isn't the half of it. 

He comes a little bit closer. “Are you okay?” He asks.

She isn’t, and she doesn’t say that she is, and so he comes even closer until he can kneel at her side. The girl’s eyes are closed, and when he reaches his hand out to brush the sweat-soaked hair from her face, he can’t help gasping out loud.

“You’re burning up,” he says, allowing his hand to cup her flushed cheek. 

“She’s been like this for two days, now,” says another voice, and Poe startles at the unexpected response. He turns towards the voice, and there is another man there -- young, not much older than the girl herself. He’s crouched at her side and clutching on to her hand. He worries her fingers between his own; his dark skin a sharp contrast to the girl’s ashen complexion. 

“You’re going to get through this. You have to,” the other man whispers, his words now directed towards the girl, who has fallen into a fitful sleep. 

*

It takes another twelve hours for Rey’s fever to break, and she remembers nothing but the comforting feeling of cool fingers against her heated skin. 

*

Finn remembers the tangle of fingers within his own.

(Discovers that he likes it.)

*

He also likes the mantra of _you can do this_ that he hears in his mind as he stands in formation on the troop transport ship. The voice is not his; decidedly feminine and unfamiliar, but yet somehow so _familiar_ at the same time that he feels a pulling ache in his chest.

*

Somehow, it seems like the moment should feel more significant than it actually does. He’s filled with adrenaline -- an instinctive sense of _fight, flee, or die_ \-- and they have no time for this, maybe no time for anything else after this moment.

But there is a spark of recognition on Poe’s face when Finn pulls off his helmet and there is no way that this is happening right now.

(It is.)

*

Finn reaches out and takes Rey’s offered hand. Sees the tangle of her fingers with his own, and he’s absolutely sure about it, this time. 

“Come with me,” he begs her on Takodana, and she refuses. Looks disappointed. Like she was sure that Finn was something that he’s not.

*

He is, and he knows it. Would know it, even if he hadn’t felt the flash of terror -- of regret and helplessness and _but I can’t lose her too_ \-- when he saw her being carried into the First Order transport. 

Just as vivid as the deep sorrow that he felt in losing a man he had only known for a few short minutes.

*

When Rey throws her arms around the person nearest to her in the command center, she’s certainly not expecting it to be _him_.

And so she does what anyone would do in the situation and retreats. Not really flees, because she’s faced down the things of nightmares and survived, and she’s certainly going to survive _this_. But still, no one could blame her for needing a little bit of space to think.

He finds her an hour later.

(Not that she’s hard to find. Anyone would have put their guesses on the medical center. But just the fact that he cares enough to come find her is comforting, at least.)

“I made a doll that looks like you,” she says, once he’s settled down next to her, backs against the wall and facing the door. 

“I know,” he says. And off her curious look, “I saw it, once. You were sick, and Finn and I were both there, in your dream. I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t remember it - you were pretty out of it. I’m not sure how much Finn remembers. Some of the dreams are pretty fuzzy, more _feelings_ than anything else, but I remember that one pretty clearly.”

And she does remember, sort of. Remembers being sick at the very least, and the overwhelming terror at the idea of dying alone in her walker. And she also remembers _not_ being alone, and not being scared anymore. 

“What does it mean?” She finally asks, long minutes later. 

Poe’s face twists in surprise, before smoothing out once again. “Of course you wouldn’t know,” he says, and it’s more to himself than anything. And then louder, like he’s heard the explanation hundreds of times before. “People believe that you share dreams with your soulmate… the person that you’re connected with, for whatever reason. It doesn’t always have to be romantic…” He pauses, as if thinking about how much he wants to say. “But it often is,” he offers, finally.

 _Soulmate?_ The explanation doesn’t really explain anything at all, to Rey. The idea that she spent all this time on Jakku by herself, when there was someone out there that was _hers_. “Wait,” she says, a little shocked when the word actually comes out of her mouth, interrupting her own stream of thought. “So, if I’ve been sharing dreams with both you and Finn, then that means…”

Poe nods. Looks a little overwhelmed, himself. “Yeah,” he answers, his voice barely above a murmur.

*

Finn dreams of water and green. Of terror and snow. He dreams of the Finalizer, and of Starkiller, and can taste the blood in the back of his throat. The screams echoing in his ears. Sometimes, Kylo Ren is there, pushing his way into his mind, and he ( _they?_ ) push back. 

He dreams of comfort, surrounding him like the best kind of blanket. He dreams of exhaustion, but the good kind that comes from a day spent using your mind and muscles. He dreams of touch and warmth and legs tangled together at the end of the bed.

Finn dreams (until he wakes up).

*

“Hey,” Rey says, as she sits down next to him, back against the massive tree trunk that he’s leaning against. He’s not sure where the tree came from -- hells, there is an entire forest out here that wasn’t there just a moment before -- but it’s here now, and so is Rey. 

And so is Poe, a few moments later. His boots barely stir the bed of fallen leaves underneath them as he walks. He lowers himself down at Finn’s other side. 

“Are you doing this?” Poe asks Rey, and she nods, the corners of her lips turning upwards. 

“Luke showed me how to manipulate our dreams, when we’re all sleeping,” she answers. “It’s easier, now that you’re _awake_ ,” she adds, gesturing towards Finn with her chin, minutely. “Well, awake being a relative term, I guess.” And Poe chuckles at that. 

“Are you coming back?” Finn asks her, because that’s the question that has been on his mind since he first woke up in the medical bay a few days earlier. 

“Soon,” she says, before leaning into him slightly, resting her head against his shoulder.

And it’s comfortable, here in the forest, with Rey at one shoulder and Poe at the other. _Right._ All around them, they are surrounded by the song of forest birds, the chirp of some sort of insect in the distance. The sun filtering down through green leaves, warming the place where they sit. 

“You made this?” He asks Rey, after a few minutes, and he feels her nod against his shoulder. 

“It was you that used to dream about forests,” she says, not a question, and she reaches over so that she can nudge Poe’s knee. “I used to love them, but I had no idea that they were real.”

Finn remembers trees, and he remembers flying, and he remembers _love_. Comfort and belonging. 

“I liked your dreams,” he says, and he can hear Rey’s breath catching in her throat next to him.

“I hoped you would,” Poe answers, sincere, and his arm comes up to wrap around Finn’s shoulders. 

(He likes that, too.)

“This doesn’t have to be romantic,” Poe says, after a long moment. It sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself than anything.

“But what if we want it to be?” Rey’s voice is sure. _Fierce_ , even.

“Then…” Poe flounders for a second, gestures vaguely with his one free hand. “Then, we can figure that all out, once Rey is back.”

That answer seems to please Rey, and she settles even more comfortably against his side. 

“You’re going to be back soon, right?” He asks again, needing confirmation. 

“Soon,” she says, and her voice is quiet, muffled against his shoulder. _Content_.

And for now, that’s enough for him


End file.
